


Pizza Night

by Silent_So_Long



Series: otpprompts [20]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3453407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard, Paul and a pizza delivery</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pizza Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following lovely prompt left upon tumblr’s otpprompts: [Imagine Person A is in the kitchen finding some recipes to prepare for dinner. Person B comes in and hugs A from behind tightly around their waist. Person A thinks something sexy will happen. Instead, B softly whispers in their most seductive voice to A’s ear “I ordered some pizza already.” ((Bonus: B actually wanted sex too, but A is now too preoccupied about the pizza to pay attention.))](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/110017662301/imagine-person-a-is-in-the-kitchen-finding-some)

Snow was falling upon Berlin streets, fat white flakes streaking past the windows of Richard’s apartment as Paul wandered into the kitchen. The apartment itself was warm and cosy, rooms warmed by the constant ticking of the central heating; despite this warmth, however, Paul still wore a pair of thick and fluffy socks, and slippers he’d borrowed from Richard. The walk through the snowy streets from his own apartment had left him with damp feet, an indication that he needed to buy new boots as soon as possible. The socks that he’d pulled on before leaving his own apartment had long since been consigned to the radiator to dry out, hence the need to borrow Richard’s socks and slippers. The remainder of his clothing was his own, however, bulky trousers and thick and fluffy jumper helping to keep him cosy and warm. 

Paul didn’t mind wearing the other man’s clothing; he’d stayed at Richard’s place enough times for Richard’s offer to seem habitual instead of polite, by now. He knew that Richard had oft been caught in similar predicaments, clothes dripping from the downpours whilst rain had battered Berlin, for Paul to have returned the favour without thought. Despite the fact that Paul’s clothes always seemed a little small on Richard, neither man seemed to mind; Paul minded less than Richard, it seemed, as he secretly enjoyed seeing the flex of the other man’s body beneath a snug t shirt that was a little too loose on Paul himself. 

He sighed and checked the clock; the face stated that it was almost 5:30pm. He opened the fridge, and took note of the array of cheeses, and sausages that were arranged neatly upon the shelves, fresh reminders of Richard’s recent trip to the supermarket. Paul began to pull out a package of cheese, and another of the white sausages that he knew that Richard favoured, before he placed both items back upon the shelf again and turned away from the fridge, door closing shut behind him with a hefty, and satisfying, little thump.

He pulled one of the recipe books down from a kitchen shelf, nearby; although Richard often loudly proclaimed that he rarely had time to cook, the other man still liked to pamper himself, and Paul by proxy, by cooking a selection of hearty comfort foods, on occasion. Whilst he thoroughly enjoyed the utter simplicity of standing alone in the kitchen, chopping vegetables or meat for various stews or pies, Paul had noticed that he used the recipe books far more than Richard himself did. Paul even went so far as to wonder if perhaps Richard proclaimed to have little time for cooking, just so that Paul would sigh with his by now habitual long-suffering patience and do it for him. 

Paul flicked through the book, lips pushed out into a thoughtful moue, brows pulled down in equal thoughtfulness. He eventually decided upon a simple potato salad, rich with cream and with onions and garlic adding to the starchy fluffy goodness of the potatoes. He smiled, finger running down the list of instructions as he familiarized himself once again with all that he was required to do, before he startled suddenly; Richard had entered the room behind him whilst Paul’s attention had been diverted by the thought of boiled potatoes and caramelized onions, feet silent as he‘d crept up behind the reading Paul.

Richard’s arms were a warm and welcome weight against his abdomen, as the other man nuzzled against his neck; Paul felt a sudden rush of desire, then, a crackling flame of arousal that twisted in his belly and ratcheted pleasantly further downwards. He closed his eyes, and rested his head against Richard’s shoulder, mind washed clean of all thoughts except those which pertained to Richard and perhaps, a bed. Richard nuzzled against his neck again before he transferred his mouth from his neck to his ear. 

“You don’t have to cook dinner, liebchen,” he murmured, breath warm and tickling against the shell of Paul's ear. 

“What?” Paul asked, mind still a little fogged with his desire to really concentrate on anything more than sheets and pillows. 

“Dinner. It’s been dealt with,” Richard replied, amusement turning his voice dark and warm, vibrations of his voice rocketing through Paul’s body from where the other man’s chest connected with Paul's back. 

“What?” Paul repeated, consciousness finally flooding back into him again. 

“I called for a pizza,” Richard said, amusement in full evidence now. “All your favourite toppings.” 

“Pizza?” Paul asked, as he eased away from Richard, to scrub hands against his face to try and calm his see-sawing thoughts.

He couldn’t help but feel disappointment at the other man‘s words; Richard had obviously been teasing him with his close proximity and tender nuzzles. As such, hands over his eyes, he missed the flash of mirroring disappointment that flashed across Richard's face, hands held before him without Paul’s body to fill them. They’d fallen to his sides by the time that Paul looked upon him again, expression schooled into a patient smile; Paul paid little attention to that, however, mind now concentrating on pizza instead of sex. 

“Please tell me you ordered extra sweetcorn and pineapple?” Paul asked, suddenly hungrier than he had been before. 

“Yes, and extra cheese and onion, just how you like it,” Richard replied, patiently. “Now, would you mind coming back over here, please?”

He held his arms up in mid-air again and Paul stepped over dutifully, yet still his mind was ruled by his stomach, loud and hungry noises erupting intermittingly at the promise of pizza and sufficiently distracting him from Richard's best nuzzles and kisses. Richard sighed against him, mouth stilling upon Paul’s neck, where a livid bruise had started to take shape upon pallid skin.

“This isn’t working, is it?” Richard asked, tone disappointed. 

“You had your chance earlier, but you distracted me with the promise of pizza,” Paul objected, playfully shoving at Richard’s body.

His hand connected solidly with Richard's abdomen with a solid little thwack. Richard humphed in protest, but the glimmer in his eyes told Paul that he hadn’t been hurt physically. 

“I’m so hungry, I could eat the proverbial horse,” Paul said, as the beginnings of a smile spread across his face.

“I bet you couldn‘t,” Richard returned, even as a hefty knock at the door announced the arrival of the pizza. “Saved by the bell, or rather more aptly, the knock.” 

Paul’s smile turned into a full-blown grin, soon mirrored by Richard; Paul scurried to answer the door, Richard a slower, more amused shadow in the smaller man’s wake. Richard caught up with Paul, just as the other man was taking a laden pizza box from the man on the other side; Richard insisted on paying for the pizza, despite Paul’s offer of splitting the costs between them. The pizza delivery man merely looked amused by their obviously affectionate bickering and the easy way with which Paul capitulated and allowed Richard to pay for their dinner. Paul pecked a grateful kiss against Richard’s cheek, which made the other man flush with embarrassment, mere seconds before the door swung closed in the face of the delivery man; that he must have seen the kiss was obvious, yet Paul couldn’t care less. 

Richard had lost his embarrassed flush by the time that they settled at the table; they both hungrily tucked into pizza and fries, soon chased down by thick slices of garlic bread. Richard left the table halfway through the meal to retrieve a couple of beers from the fridge; he passed one to Paul upon his return, before he washed the remnants of his meal down with great gulps from his own bottle. Paul copied his movements, throat bobbing with every drag and pull upon the neck of his beer bottle. Richard watched with some fascination, bottle dangling momentarily forgotten from his fingers as he did so. Paul merely offered him a smile, but made no comment on the way that Richard had been obviously ogling him. 

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, every movement easy and companionable, glances stolen occasionally yet never commented upon nor apologised for. Paul reached out with one heavily socked foot once the last of the food had been consumed and rubbed his toes against Richard's shin; he smiled when Richard almost choked upon his mouthful of beer. Richard returned the favour by pressing his own toes against the bulge of Paul’s groin, rubbing them against him until Paul was a gasping mass of arousal.

“Don’t start anything unless you mean to finish it, Paulchen,” Richard said, when Paul cursed at him from across the table.

“I could say the same thing to you, Reesh,” Paul objected. 

“What?” Richard asked, too innocent in the face of Paul’s sudden glare. 

“You’re a fucking cock-tease, Kruspe,” Paul said.

“What? When have I been?” Richard protested, still with that devilishly innocent look in his eyes that Paul could never resist. 

“Before dinner,” Paul said. “You were all kisses and cuddles in the kitchen, then you had to distract me with pizza.”

“I wasn’t intending to distract you, Paul. I wanted to fuck you right there and then and would have too, if you’d let me,” Richard said, and his previously too innocent look was replaced by a teasing pout. 

“Damn you,” Paul said. “And the horse you rode in on.”

“What the hell does that even mean, Paul? You’re talking nonsense,” Richard said, with a laugh.

“Sevres you right for being a cock-tease,” Paul said, with a laugh of his own. “I am, however, available for a good fuck right now, if you’re still interested.” 

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” Richard said, with an arch lift of one eyebrow.

“Or perhaps you could show me how much I don’t deserve it,” Paul challenged, with a raised eyebrow of his own.

“Fighting talk, Landers,” Richard said, even as he stood and threw his used napkin onto the table. 

He made his way around to where Paul still sat and dotted a tender kiss against the top of the other man’s head, hand warm against Paul’s shoulder; Paul smiled and arched up into Richard’s touch, body reacting to the other man’s in the same way that it always did. His mouth nudged against Richard’s in mid-air, lips soon melding together in an easy yet imperfect kiss; the angle was wrong, but still it felt nice to both men. 

Paul stood once the kiss ended, and all teasing had fled; instead, he allowed the other man to lead him into the bedroom, clothes soon stripped from eager bodies to land in piled untidy heaps upon the floor, before two bodies joined upon the bed, hands teasing and caressing blindly, moans arching and mingling as they made love late into the evening.


End file.
